I turn my head a fraction and now we’re nose to nose, staring into each other’s eyes. Hers are a gorgeous caramel brown, twinkling with mischief.

I say, “Of course not. I’m a gentleman. I was gonna let you finish those conch croquettes first.”

She slow blinks and smiles.

My titanium boner is in serious jeopardy of exploding in my shorts.

“You haven’t even asked what I’m doing in St. Croix.” Angeline leans back and lazily selects another of the croquettes from the plate. “I could be vacationing with my husband.”

“No ring,” I counter, watching her make eating a piece of fried seafood look like dirty fetish porn.

She swallows and licks her lips, obviously enjoying torturing me. “My boyfriend, then.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

My tone of total confidence makes her arch an eyebrow. “No? What makes you so certain of that?”

“Because you kiss like you’re starving, you look at me like a little kid looks at all the presents under the tree on Christmas morning, and you’re not the type of woman who cheats on her man. You’re too serious for that, even though you try to seem carefree.”

Something crosses her face, a look of surprise or irritation, instantly erased. She says, “I had no idea I was so transparent.”

Though her tone is casual, I can tell she’s disturbed. She doesn’t want me to look too closely, to notice things about her. Naturally, that makes me want to notice even more. I’m a bloodhound with the fresh scent of fox in my nose.

Let the hunt begin.

“Ignore me,” I say, watching her compose herself. “I’ve been out in the sun too long. So tell me, Angel, what brings you to St. Croix?”

She flips a lock of long brown hair over her shoulder and swivels on the stool so she’s facing the bar counter, her eyes turned away. “Work.”

I look at the infinity pool, the lush green mountains in the distance, the sparkling Caribbean Sea dotted with sailboats. Then I look back at her, in all her exotic glory. “Lemme guess. You’re a model.”

“I’m a travel writer, doing a piece on the fine resorts of the Caribbean.”

“A writer.” Sure you are. And I’m Dolly Parton. I slide onto the barstool next to her and take a slug of my warm beer. “Guess you’re not just a pretty face after all.”

I’m gifted with her full-throated laugh again. “You mean you couldn’t tell from that line I used on you when you came back from the pool?”

“So it was a line,” I drawl, gently bumping her shoulder with mine. When she looks at me, I grin. “You are gonna sleep with me.”

She tries to look offended but completely fails. “You think you’re extremely charming, don’t you?” she says, all prim and proper. Now it’s my turn to laugh.

“Hardly. My mama always said I’ve got the manners God gave a goat. I’m just a beer-drinkin’ good ol’ boy from Georgia with more balls than brains.”

Angeline eyes me. She lets her gaze linger on my tattoos, the scars on my stomach, and my hands, which have spent near equal time on the keys of a piano as they have on an M16 rifle. She says softly, “Or maybe that’s what you want people to think.”

Our eyes lock. A strange sensation makes its way through my stomach. It’s fizzy. Fluttery. If I didn’t know fucking better, I’d describe it as butterflies.

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow,” I say abruptly, holding her gaze.

“Me too.”

Title: Sweet Torment
Author: Georgia Cates
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 2, 2017

Chapter 1In a world full of deceit and lies, who do you trust?

I stand alone in the corner of the nightclub, watching him take her in his arms before he kisses her.

The air evaporates from my lungs. I can’t breathe.

Despair is pumping through my bloodstream, but for some sick self-destructive reason, I can’t bring myself to look away. I have to see this—see what he is capable of and exactly how far this has gone.

The signs were there, I saw them. But like a fool I ignored them for as long as my gut instinct would allow.

I believed that he loved me.

I believed that she loved me.

As I stand there and watch my boyfriend of two years kissing my best friend and roommate of five years, I realize I have never felt so betrayed on so many levels. I can’t even begin to comprehend what I am witnessing.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I feel like I am having an out of body experience watching the horrific nightmare unfold.

This can’t be happening.

My first inkling was two weeks ago. Melissa, my roommate, had a date with a guy she has been seeing for a few weeks and when he arrived to pick her up, Todd, my boyfriend, was really nasty to him. I watched him glare at her as she left and I saw her practically run from the apartment just to get Todd away from that man.

Why?

Why wasn’t he happy that she was dating? They had become friends and hell, had spent many nights alone in my apartment as he waited for me to get home from my nightshift. A sick thought had crossed my mind that night… was he jealous?

No, he couldn’t be.

So, I thought I would test the theory. Over the following week I was overly affectionate towards Todd in front of Melissa, and every single time she went to bed early, acting happy even though I knew she was fuming inside. The catalyst came on Thursday night when I decided to call in sick for work and Todd and Melissa were both openly annoyed that I wasn’t going in.

I had obviously ruined their plans of having sex, and that’s when the deep sickening truth slayed me.

Did they have sex in her bed or mine?

How often did my roommate satisfy my lover?

Unable to help myself, I put a tracking device app on Melissa’s phone. I knew her password. Of course I did. We shared everything.

Even a cock, it seemed.

On Friday she announced that she was going away for the weekend and Todd announced that he had a night away planned to somewhere else for work.

Coincidence? I didn’t think so.

I knew they were meeting up and probably going to be fucking in a hotel room somewhere.

I took my time. I waited.

And now it’s 11 p.m. on Saturday night and I’m in a different town, in a nightclub where I know nobody, witnessing my worst nightmare.

He can go. A leopard never changes his sickening spots… but why the fuck did he have to take her from me?

I watch them through unshed tears as my heart tries to escape my chest.

My best friend—the only constant in my life since my mother passed away five years ago. My father, an abusing control freak, left when I was a kid, and then when Mom died I moved here for college and met Melissa. My life changed that day. Mel was happy, confident, and attractive.

More than I was… than I am.

I watch her grind herself against him while he looks down on her seductively as she dances. His hands are on her behind. He’s smiling as he says something and then they laugh together, and I feel myself die a little inside.

They are not just fucking.

They have feelings for each other.

He kisses her again and his hands go to the back of her head to hold her exactly how he wants her. Their kiss is long, deep, and erotic.

Through blurred vision, I try to make myself look away.

No.

I can’t look away because I know when I leave this nightclub two of the most important people in my life will no longer be a part of it. The floor sways beneath me. How is this possible?

What have I done to deserve this betrayal?

I can’t move.

He kisses her again and they fall back against a wall where he pins her and then they start to really go for it.

No. Stop it!

The tears burst the dam and I start to stride toward them as the adrenaline hits its crescendo. I need to stop them, stop everything.

Stop kissing her, you fucking asshole!

Please, stop it!

But then I pause mid-step.

Don’t do this. Don’t lower yourself. Go home and move out. Don’t give them a chance to deny or defend it.

I am better than this.

I stand for a moment and stare at the square pattern on the carpet beneath my feet. I’m dizzy and disorientated. I stay there for a while longer with my eyes firmly on the dirty treasons. He kisses her and lifts her thigh up to wrap around his, a move he always pulls on me.

Does he like to do her from behind, too?

That last thought snaps something deep inside. I don’t remember getting over to them, but I push him in the back as he pins her to the wall, he falls forward and then looks around, his expression drops in horror. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve punched him in the face.

Melissa’s hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my God!” she gasps. “T-this isn’t what it looks like,” she stammers.

“You slut!” I scream, unable to control myself. I grab a drink from a man walking past and throw it in her face, following it up with a hard slap across her cheek. She staggers back in shock, her hand flying up to her smarting face.

“Roshelle,” Todd cries as he grabs my arm to try and control me. “Calm down.” He pulls me away from Melissa, clearly scared that I am going to hit her again.

“I will not fucking calm down.” I push out as the tears fall. I turn to him and a myriad of emotions fill me, but it is his betrayal that steals my voice. I have so many things I want to say, so many things that have escaped my brain. My eyes search his and he tries to grab my hand.

“Don’t touch me!” I yell as I whip my hand away from him. “Never again.”

I turn to Melissa. “Get your things and get out of my house.” I sneer.

“Roshelle,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head in disbelief. Suddenly the walls start closing in, and I know I have got to get out of here.

I have got to get away from this hurt.

I see an exit sign and make a beeline for it without looking back. I push out into the cold night air, the door slamming behind me.

“Shut the fuck up before I blow your fucking head off!” a man’s voice yells.

“You don’t have the fucking guts,” someone else sneers in reply.

Huh?

I try to focus, despite my tears, and I angrily swipe them from my eyes. It’s dark and there are people out here. I try to focus on the shadows in front of me, then I turn back and try to open the door I just came out of. It’s locked and there is no handle on this side. It’s clearly a fire door.

What? Where am I?

The tears are streaming down my face.

A gunshot rings out and a man drops in front of me clutching his stomach. My eyes widen in horror as I grasp the situation I have just unknowingly stumbled upon.

What?

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by five men on all sides.

I’ve interrupted some kind of deal.

Oh no.

“Who the fuck is she?” one man calls out.

I shake my head in a panic. “I didn’t see anything, I swear.” I push through the group of men and one of them grabs me by the arm. “I need me some clean ass tonight.”

I try to rip my arm from his clutches, but he hits me hard across the face with his gun, the pain ringing through my head like a lightning bolt before I fall to the ground.

“Bring her with us,” someone yells.

“No, we don’t need that baggage. Leave her, she said she didn’t see anything.”

They continue arguing.

“Yeah, well, my cock needs new pussy. “Bring her.” The shooter growls.

I feel my body being lifted and then thrown into the tight space of a car trunk. “No,” I whisper. “No.” My handbag falls to the ground and I see someone pick it up and throw it in the car.

The trunk lid slams with a thud.

I taste blood in my mouth as I lie in a semi-conscious state in the dark.

The pain from my head throbs. What has just happened?

I put my hands up in the darkness and feel the cold metal that encases me.

The reality of the situation rings true as the car starts to drive and I hear them talking to each other in the backseats behind me. Everything is foggy and my head, it hurts so much. I feel something hot run through my hair. What is it? I put my hand up and feel a deep gash in my head, the dripping blood hot and sticky. What the fuck? Oh no. They will kill me.

With renewed purpose and splayed hands I start to hit the roof in a panic.

They just killed someone.

I need some new pussy.

His words run through my head. Oh my God, they are going to rape me before they kill me, all five of them.

I start to run my hands frantically over the metal that encases me. How do you get out of a car trunk? Is there a latch?

“Help!” I scream. “Help me,” I call out as I slam my open hands on the roof. The car slows down. Shit! My eyes widen.

Is this it? I pant as I listen to their movements and I hear the whirl of the traffic lights walk indicator. Now! I need to scream now. We are static, stuck in traffic.

I start to bang on the roof with force. “Help me!” I scream. I lift my legs and try to push the lid open, but fuck, it’s so cramped in here. I bang frantically on the ceiling and I feel around underneath me, grabbing the corner of the carpet. Tools. There will be tools under here. I half roll over and tear back the carpet and grab a metal toolbox. “Help me. I’m in the trunk. I’m being kidnapped. Heeeeeeelp!” I scream.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll come back there and shut you up,” a male voice growls from inside the car.

My eyes widen. Oh, he sounds scary. I really begin to freak out. I have to get out of here. Now.

I struggle to open the toolbox in front of me in the dark, but eventually it flies open in a rush and a tire iron flings back, hitting me straight in the nose.

“Ah, fuck!” I scream.

Ouch, that fucking hurt. The impact brings tears to my eyes and I clutch my face. Oh, crap, I think I broke my own nose. I grab the tire iron and hit it on the roof with all of my strength. The impact makes it ricochet back and hits me straight in the eyebrow.

“Ahh!” I scream again. I feel a hot trickle run down the side of my face. If they don’t kill me I am doing a good job of it myself here.

I keep banging the tire iron on the roof. This has got to be gaining some kind of attention. “Help me,” I yell. “Someone… call the police. Help.”

The car speeds up and I am flung to the back of the trunk. The lights change, the car flies around the corner, and I go flying, sending the tools scattering throughout the trunk so they hit me. The driver turns a right like a maniac and I slide and hit my head against the side.

“Fucking assholes,” I scream, and I hear them all laugh inside the car. Then the vehicle flies around a left corner and I go sliding again. I can hear the tires screeching as the car races down the street.

I’m going to die. Oh God, I’m going to die. I try to grip onto the metal roof to stop myself from hitting the edge, but I can’t, and as the car flies around the corner I crumple into the hard metal end of the trunk. The tools are flying around and hitting me. Shit. I feel around frantically for the tire iron again. I may need it, but I can’t find it, and my hand feels around the carpeted floor.

Where are you? Where are you?

I bend and feel along the other end of the trunk and finally feel the cold hard metal. My heart is racing as the car races out of control. I need a plan, but what is the damn plan?

Think.

I clutch the tire iron in my hand with white-knuckle force as I try to stop myself from flying around. Whoever opens the trunk is getting knocked out with this fucker. My thoughts cross to Oprah and her sound advice to never go to the second location. I don’t remember much from Oprah, but I do know that she said never go to the second location if being kidnapped—fight like hell to escape because they are going to kill you as soon as you get there.

Oh God, this is great.

I’m already in the fucking car on the way to the second location. I begin to get mad, like, furious mad. How dare they? I’ve had a really fucking bad night and I’m not in the mood for this shit. After about twenty minutes and sixty attack plans, the car slows down and goes over speed bumps.

Where are we?

Adrenaline starts to pump through my blood.

Speed bumps are in parking lots… So that must mean we are in a deserted parking lot.

The car stops and the men go silent. I close my eyes, knowing this is it.

Holy shit.

My heart is hammering and I grip the tire iron in one hand and the car jack in the other. If I’m going to die tonight, someone is coming with me. I wriggle around so my feet are facing the opening, and I pull them back towards my chest. I can hardly breathe, I’m so scared. I hold my weapons in my hand and wait. The car doors open and the whole car lifts as the men get out.

Where are we?

I hear them begin to talk as if I have been totally forgotten about and another sickening thought crosses my mind. What if they just leave me in here?

What if I just die a slow death in the car from no water or food? Oh my God.

What do I do? What do I do?

I stay quiet for five minutes as I try to think until I can’t stand it any longer.

Screw this. I am not dying alone in the trunk of a car in a deserted parking lot. I put my tire iron down next to me on the floor and I bang on the trunk lid. “Help me. Let me out,” I call.

The men go silent.

“Just get her out and let her go,” someone says.

“I will be having some fun first,” another answers.

I can’t understand what is said next but they all laugh out loud and I grip the tire iron in my hand.

Assholes.

I pull my legs back, and as the trunk is opened I kick out with all my might and connect my feet with a man’s face, knocking him to the ground. I jump out of the trunk and one man comes at me. I swing the tire iron as violently as I can and hit him hard in the head, watching as he falls away. The other men all laugh at their two friends on the ground. Another man comes at me and I swing the car jack as hard as I can and cut his face open.

Then I run.

As fast as I can, I run across the cement. It’s dark and we are in a parking lot that seems to be near the ocean. I can smell the sea and hear the seagulls. I run with two men chasing after me. I have no defense in these damn high-heeled shoes. They catch up with me easily and tackle me to the ground.

“Get off me,” I scream as I fight and kick. One man hits me across the face and they struggle to contain me as I wrestle to get out of their grip. They are too strong.

They drag me up from the ground, one on each arm, as I kick my legs out and wrestle to try and get away. They fight with me through the darkness, guiding me back to the car.

One man has his t-shirt off and is holding it up against his face to try and stop the bleeding from my car jack attack and the other two men watch.

One man is leaning on the car watching me intently.

I glare at him and he smirks back.

“Let me go!” I yell as I try to break the gorilla grip the two men have on me. I bend down and they struggle. I kick out again and connect with the man on my left, hitting his balls and he cries out and doubles over. The distraction lets me rip from the other man’s grip and I punch him hard in the face. The man who I hit with the tire jack comes to their aid and helps them hold me down.

“You’re coming with us, bitch.”

“She’s going to be fun to break in.” The man on my left laughs.

“Fuck you!” I scream as I kick him in the balls again.

He doubles over in pain and the man leaning against the car laughs out loud.

My eyes glance over to him. He’s tall, scary looking, and the other men all seem to be looking to him for guidance. He’s calm and controlled, not like them. He’s clearly the alpha of the group.

Their leader.

He smirks as he watches me and lights a cigarette as if thinking and shakes his head.

“I don’t have time for this shit.” He sighs.

I kick out and connect with the other man’s shin, he cries out. “I’m going to fucking bash you in a minute, bitch.” He growls. “What are we fucking doing with her?” he yells at the man leaning on the car. “She’s out of fucking control.”

The tall man takes a drag of his cigarette, his eyes dropping to my feet before rising back up. He smirks darkly. “Bring her.”

I shake my head and start to fight. “Like fuck you will,” I scream as I kick out.

His eyes hold mine, and he smiles darkly and takes another drag of his cigarette. He licks his lips as his eyes drop to my breasts.

Fear runs through me. I start to go animalistic and fight like hell.

“Get the cloth,” he says to the two the other man standing next to him. The guy disappears to the car and shuffles around as I fight and kick the two men on either side of me. He reappears with a black cloth and holds it over my face as I struggle with the two men who are holding me down.

“No.” I scream as I try to move my head out of their reach. I can’t get away from the black cloth that smells like chemicals.

I struggle.

I fight.

I feel faint.

I lose consciousness.

I wake as a wave of nausea rolls through my stomach and I go to wipe the perspiration from my forehead. I can’t move my arm.

Huh? I pull my arm, but it won’t move, and I glance over my head to see it is tied to a post.

I struggle and look down at my body. Horror dawns on me.

Oh my God.

I’m naked, spread-eagled and tied to a bed by my hands and feet.

My eyes flicker nervously around the room as I try to focus. I see the tall man leaning up against a dresser in the corner, completely shirtless. He is looking through my wallet from my handbag.

What the fuck?

I start to struggle frantically. I have got to get out of here. I jiggle my whole body to try and loosen the ties. “What do you want?” I cry.

He ignores me and pulls my licence from my wallet. He holds it up and reads it.

“Roshelle Meyers,” he murmurs.

“Get out of my things,” I snap.

He glances up and smirks, walking towards me before he kneels next to me on the bed. “I have already been in your…” He hesitates and runs his fingers through my open sex and then puts them into his mouth. “Things,” he replies dryly, arching his brow.

My eyes close. Oh God. I don’t remember.

Shame fills me.

“Let me go,” I whisper as tears escape and roll down my cheeks.

His hand travels slowly up my torso. He cups my full breast and then bends and takes it in his mouth. “I like these,” he whispers into my breast.

I screw up my face and shake my head. “Please… stop it. Please, I beg. What do you want? Let me go. You have had your fun.”

He bites my nipple hard and I gasp in pain.

“I haven’t started to have fun yet,” he whispers coldly.

“Untie me. Please, untie me,” I beg.

He shakes his head as he runs his fingers back toward my sex and slides them through my lubricated flesh. I’m wet. Have I had sex? “Did you…?” I hesitate.

His dark eyes dance with delight. “My tongue did.”

My eyes widen in horror.

He bends and kisses my sex and I buck off the bed to try and get him off me.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he whispers. “A sweet smelling pussy tied open for my gaze is something that I can’t resist. You enjoyed it, by the way.” He lies next to me on the bed and rests up on his elbow. He looks down at me as his hand slides back up my body to cup my breast. “Let’s get one thing straight.” He sneers.

I turn my head away so I don’t have to look at him and he grabs my face and drags my eyes to meet his.

“I’m the boss here.”

I glare at him.

“You do what I want, when I want.”

“Like fuck I do,” I whisper angrily.

He smiles an evil smile. “If what I want is my cock splitting your virginal ass in two… then that’s my call. Not fucking yours.”

I swallow the fear in my throat as his cold eyes hold mine.

“Go to Hell,” I whisper.

“I’m the gate keeper of Hell, baby. Welcome home.”